


The Voltron Files

by AnAwkwardAvocado



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: ...kind of, Alternate Universe - Space, F/M, It's all broken up into documents, Lance & Pidge | Katie Holt Friendship, Lance and Pidge will say ilu in FRIENDLY ways, M/M, Minor Klance, More tags as they come along, Space Plague, Space zombies!, THERE IS NO RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN LANCE AND PIDGE, THERE WILL NEVER BE ONE, You'll understand once you start reading, letters and email, like almost everyone dies, platonic plance, theres gonna be like 300 if not more chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-07
Updated: 2018-03-20
Packaged: 2019-03-14 20:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 23
Words: 12,386
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13597644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnAwkwardAvocado/pseuds/AnAwkwardAvocado
Summary: First survive, then tell the truth.The year is 2575 and two mega-corporations are at war over a planet that's little more than an ice covered speck. Too bad nobody thought to warn the people living on it. With enemy fire raining down on them, Lance and Katie have to make their escape on the evacuating fleet. But their troubles are just beginning. A deadly plague has broken out on one of the space ships and it is mutating with terrifying results. Their ships protection is seriously flawed. No one will say what is really going on.As Katie hacks into a tangled web of data to find the truth its clear only one person can help her. Lance. And the only problem with that is they split up before all this trouble started and she isn't supposed to be talking to him.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic will have cool fonts and lettering (if I can get it to work) and will make more sense read from a computer. If you cannot get to a computer to read it, it will probably be fine, but some of the spacing might look really wonky.
> 
> Also, Lance and Katie are friiiiieeeeennnndddssssssssssssssss.
> 
> Friends. 
> 
> This means there will not be a relationship between them. Sorry to disappoint.

**MEMORANDUM FOR:** Executive Director Frobisher  
  


**FROM:** Ghost ID (#6755-4181-2584-1597-  


987-610-377-ERROR-ERROR-ERROR…)  
  


**INCEPT:** 01/29/76  
  


**SUBJECT:** _ Alexander  _ dossier

 

* * *

 

 

So here’s the file that almost killed me, Director. 

  I won’t bore you with the tally of databases plundered, light-years jumped, or cute, sniffling orphans created in it’s compilation—our fee already reflects Level of Difficulty. But the dirt is out there, if you know where to look. Seems your cleanup crews weren’t quite as thorough as you’d like, and your little corporate war isn’t quite as secret as you hoped.

  You’ll find all intel we could unearth concerning the Altea disaster compiled here in hard copy. Where possible, scans of original documentation are included. Fun Times commence with the destruction of the Altea Colony (one year ago today) and proceed chronologically through events on battlecarrier  _ Alexander  _ and science vessel  _ Hypatia  _ as best as we can reconstruct them.

  All visual and audio data are included in original form, along with writing transcripts.  _ All typographical and graphical anomalies are present in the original files.  _ Commentary from my team is marked with a triangle (∆) icon. Some written materials were censored by the UTA and had to be reconstructed by commtechs, although profanity remains censored as per your instruction. Sure, the story kicks off with the death of thousands of people, but gosh forbid there be cussing in it, right?

 

The Voltron Group

  
  


_ In a time of universal deceit, telling the truth is a _

_ revolutionary act.                                     - _ Orwell


	2. Chapter 2

∆   The following are extracts                        

are from debriefing interviews 

with the subjects of this dossier,

Katie Holt and Lance McClain.

The interviews were conducted

shortly after the evacuation of

Altea

 

Incept: 01/30/75

 

 

* * *

 

 **Interviewer:** Tell me about yesterday.

 

 **Katie Holt:** I was in class when it started. This is going to sound stupid, but I was in an argument with my best friend that morning, and he was right there on the other side of the room. I’m staring out the window and coming up with all the things I should say to the jerk, when these ships fly right overhead and all the windows start shaking.

 

 **Interviewer:** Did you know something was up?

 

 **Katie Holt:** No. You don’t exactly jump straight to an invasion. The Altea settlement wasn’t exactly _legal_ , be we still got traffic around the mine and refinery. I figured it was an ore carrier coming in too low and went back to plotting my idiot friend’s downfall.

 

 **Interviewer:** When did you become aware of the invasion?

 

 **Katie Holt:** That would be when all the sirens started screaming. Some bright spark who’s probably dead now sounded the spaceport alarms. The _Defiant-_ that was our WUC protection ship-had transmitted an alert to let us know unfriendly people with big guns had arrived, and—

 

 **Interviewer** : How did you know the _Defiant_ transmitted a warning?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : I’m good with computers. I wanted to know what was going on at the port, so I took a look.

 

 **Interviewer** : You evacuated at that stage?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : You make it sound much more organized than it was.

 

 **Interviewer** : How was it?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : All kittens and rainbows. Apart from the screaming and explosions. 

 

 **Interviewer** : How did you make it out?

 

 **Katie Holt:** I’m a lateral thinker. 

 

 **Interviewer** : Meaning you used your comput—

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : Meaning I broke open a window.

 

 **Interviewer** : Oh.

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : I had a truck in the parking lot. I borrowed my mom’s because I didn’t want to have to take the tube home with _him._ Having the truck there saved my life. I saw one of my teachers in the lot, and this chunk of metal came screaming in from the sky, and . . .

 

 **Interviewer** : Miss Holt?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : I had this moment where I thought I left the keys in my desk, and I pulled apart my bag and threw my stuff everywhere—I guessI knew I wouldn’t need any of it again, isn’t that weird? But I found the keys at the bottom and jumped in, and just as I start the engine, I look across and he’s standing right there, staring at me. I swear—

 

 **Interviewer** : Hold on, the survivor list is refreshing. What was the name you were after?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : Lance McClain.

 

 **Interviewer** : We have him. He’s on the _Alexander._

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : [Inaudible]

 

* * *

 

 **Interviewer** : Are you okay to continue, Mr. McClain?  


**Lance** **McClain** : I’m all right. My shoulder hurts.

  
**Interviewer** : I’ll have an orderly bring you some more meds. You were saying about your escape from the school?

  
**Lance** **McClain** : Never seen anything like it. Just this crush of people and screaming. Teachers. Students. I mean, we _knew_ each other. Colony that isolated, everyone pretty much knows everyone. But it was like they all just lost it. I remember getting pushed along in the hall and wondering why the hallway was soft under my boots. And then I realized what I was walking on.

 

 **Interviewer** : So how did you get out?

 

 **Lance McClain:** I’m six foot. Played point defense on the school geeball team. One time I hit this receiver so hard they had to ID him with DNA.

 

 **Interviewer** : Where did you go after the first missile strike?

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : Everyone was headed for the tube station, but I figured a tin can in an underground ice tunnel was the last place you’d want to be with bombs going off. So—

 

 **Interviewer** : Wait, you people had a subway system? I thought this settlement was illegal?

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : Chum, the Altea mine operated undetected for twenty years. Whole families lived there. You know how far from the Core we are, right?

 

 **Interviewer** : Maybe further than you might think . . .

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : . . . What is that supposed to mean?

 

 **Interviewer** : Nothing. I’m sorry.

 

 **Interviewer** : You were saying about the subway?

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : Yeah . . . Right. Basically, I didn’t wanna risk it down there, so I lit out through the parking lot. Which might not have been the best plan, since I didn’t have wheels. And I’m looking around, and the sky is raining fire, and I’m still freezing because the windchill on Altea could hit forty below on a bad day. And there she was.

 

 **Interviewer** : Who?

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : My friend. Who’d gotten into a huge argument with me maybe three hours before. So that was . . . awkward.

 

 **Interviewer** : What did you do?

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : Well, I figured there was a good chance she’d run me over if I stood in front of the truck. So I knocked on the window and said something like, “Lovely day for a drive,” and at that point the southeastern anti-missile battery got vaporized by what I assume was a missile. So maybe you want to write in your report that those things don’t, you know, _stop missiles._

 

 **Interviewer** : So she let you in?

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : She let me in. I guess she figured she didn’t hate me enough to let me get X-ed out by a Galran kill squad.

 

 **Interviewer** : How did you know Galra were behind the attack?

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : I think the biggest giveaway was the huge Galra logo on the warship hovering overhead. It’d dropped out of the clouds and was X-ing the rest of the defense silos by then.

 

 **Interviewer** : By “warship,” you mean the Galra dreadnought _Lincoln_?

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : Yeah. That’s them. Quiznackers. Wait, am I allowed to swear in this thing?

 

_____________________

 

 **Interviewer** : So what happened next?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : We took off outta the parking lot like we were in a chase scene. Some moron had parked blocking the exit, but the truck was all-terrain, so we rammed it.

 

 **Interviewer** : What was it like outside of the school?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : There were a lot of explosions and a lot of dead people. Dead civilians who worked for a hecking mining company. I mean, imagine you’re an interstellar corporation, right? You discover an illegal mining op run by one of your competitors. Do you (a) report it to the UUA and laugh as the fines roll in, or (b) jump in an attack fleet and X-out every man, woman, and child on the planet? What the heck was Galra thinking?

 

 **Interviewer** : What you and I need to do is focus on what happened at Altea. Gathering intel on the attack is the best thing we can do to help right now.

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : I can’t believe this.

 

 **Interviewer** : Miss Holt—

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : Okay. Fine. We took the main arterial, and Lance turned on the radio. For a second I thought the idiot was looking for the right soundtrack or something, but there was an emergency broadcast up. They were telling us to get to the spaceport, and our research fleet was going to send down shuttles to ferry us all up to orbit.

 

* * *

 

 **Interviewer** : So you turned for the spaceport?

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : Yeah. I turned on the radio to maybe find us some getaway music, but there was an emergency broadcast telling everyone to hit the port for evacuation. So that’s what we tried to do. But there were cars everywhere, and some truck had overturned on the strip. Katie almost flipped us, and when I offered to drive, she . . . well, she called me a very bad word. 

 

 **Interviewer** : I see.

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : I can repeat it if you want, but—

 

 **Interviewer** : That’s fine, Mr. McClain.

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : Mr. McClain is my dad. And you still won’t tell me why I can’t see him.

 

 **Interviewer** : We need you properly debriefed before you have any civilian contact, Mr. McClain. I mean . . . Lance.

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : “Civilian Contact.” Wow. He’s my father, chum. You guys still have fathers, right? Or does everyone in the great United Universe Authority get grown in a vat nowadays?

 

 **Interviewer** : Why don’t you just tell me what happened next?

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : Galra blew the hecking spaceport, that’s what happened next. Popped a half-dozen missiles and turned it into a smoking hole in the ice. I played geeball with one of the ground crew guys. Rob Flynn. Rolo, our next-door neighbor, he worked the quarantine bays. There was this girl, Nyma. I knew her since eighth grade. She worked the port comms rig. She was. . .

 

 **Interviewer** : Lance?

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : Wow. I just realized. She was the first girl I ever kissed . . .

 

* * *

 

 **Interviewer** : Do you need a minute?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : No, I need to get this done. Once the spaceport was gone, it was hard to figure our where to go next. Mostly we were just dodging explosions. The ground was shaking, and at first I thought it was just missiles hitting. Then I realized the impacts were cracking the ice shelf under the colonies foundations.

 

 **Interviewer** : Do you have a background in geology?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : I’m sixteen—of course I don’t. But there were these hug cracks opening up in the ground, big enough to lose a car down. And before you ask how I know that, I saw it happen. There were kids in the back.

 

 **Interviewer** : So you were driving through the city, and what happened next?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : Lance wanted to find his father. He worked at the refinery, but I told him we couldn’t get through the crowd  that would be streaming out of there. His dad’s a big guy, like Lance. I told him they’d all be evacuating together, and we just had to trust him to keep his feet, If we went in there, someone might have jacked the truck, and then we’d be screwed. I saw a woman pull this man off his quad bike and take off on it with her kid. I saw a security officer shoot a guy trying to climb into the back of his truck. We weren’t going to make it as far as the refinery. I wanted to go for my dad instead, and my mom. My brother was offworld-he works rotation on jumpstation _Heimdall._ So it was just my parents and me. My dad’s a pathologist, so he did research, worked at the med center. Mom was training there.

 

 **Interviewer** : Do you need me to look up your father’s name on the lists?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : No, he made it out. He’s here on the _Hypatia_. I saw him before my interview.

 

 **Interviewer** : And your mother?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : No. She didn’t. 

 

 **Interviewer** : I’m sorry.

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : Yeah. 

 

 **Interviewer** : So did Lance see reason? Did you go to find your father?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : We started. Lance’s mom isn’t around, so mine had just spent a year feeding him. I think she was more upset about the breakup than anyone. We were headed for their lab, and by that time there were people in the streets, riding in all-terrains, some on quad bikes, folks on foot. The ground was cracking and there were chunks breaking off buildings, and all the time there’s this huge Galra ship in the sky, pounding our defense with missiles. Shuttles were lifting off with civis evacuating. It was so loud I thought my ears were bleeding. And over the top of all that, Lance chooses then to start criticizing my driving.

 

 **Interviewer** : It’s hard to believe you guys broke up.

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : You have no idea. Anyway, that’s when half the cineplex fell on our truck.

 

* * *

 

 **Interviewer** : Wait, what?

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : I don’t know how long I was unconscious for. I came to and thought the sky was covered in spiderwebs. And then I realized I’m looking through the smashed windshield and we’re buried under half a building. The truck is scrapped, Katie’s next to me and there’s blood all over her face, and I couldn’t find a pulse. So I dragged her out of the wreckage and started to giver her mouth-to-mouth and that’s when she slugged me, Your Honor.

 

 **Interviewer** : She hit you?

 

 **Lance McClain:** Yeah, right in the face. Good shot, too. I dunno. She thought I was trying to kiss her, or something, not that I ever would. She’d hit her head, she was messed up. So we’re gearing up to start yelling at each other, and then we realize the sky is full of Cyclone fighter ships. So I figured the cavalry must have arrived.

 

 **Interviewer** : Could you still see the Lincoln?

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : No. But we could see the refinery had been hit. It was covered in this . . . I dunno. It’s hard to describe. It was like a mist? But it was black. Creeping in the air real slow, like molasses. Not smoke. It was . . . something different.

 

 **Interviewer** : You said your father worked at the refinery?

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : Yeah. So of course I want to go look for him. And Katie still wants to go find Mr. Holt. And the glacier is cracking open and the sky is on fire, and I think I can see Galran ground troops in the distance. And then I said it.

 

* * *

 

 **Interviewer** : What did he say?

 

 **Katie Holt:** He said, “You picked a hell of a day to leave me, Pidge.”

 

* * *

 

 **Interviewer** : You really said that?

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : Yeah. So all hell breaks loose, and Katie is yelling at me and I’m yelling back. All this stuff that’d been building up for the last year and boiling just under the skin. Like, I loved the kid. I love her as a friend. But she had this way of just . . . It was so stupid. The world is ending all around us and we’re screaming about college applications and commitment and shit. I mean, can you believe that?

 

 **Interviewer** : You’re seventeen, right?

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : Almost eighteen.

 

 **Interviewer** : Then yes, I believe it.

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : Cold, man. Real cold. 

 

 **Interviewer** : So what happened next?

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : I took off. She told me I was being crazy, but I was just . . . furious. And my dad is all I have left, so . . . yeah. Ran toward the refinery, burning cars and trashed buildings everywhere. I saw a Cyclone crash into an apartment block right in front of my face. Felt the heat on my skin. I was just keeping low and trying to get closer to the plant, but there were Galra troops all over. Big, armor-plated goons in winter camo carrying guns you could kill a glacieosaur with. I didn’t really have a plan, I just needed to find my dad. Didn’t know what I was going to do once I hit that fog. But turned out that wouldn’t be a problem.

 

 **Interviewer** : Why’s that?

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : Well, they shot me.

 

___________________

 

 **Interviewer** : They shot him?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : I couldn’t believe it either. Those fuckers should have got in line. They’re not the ones who had to put up with his—

 

 **Interviewer** : You said you parted ways at that stage. How did you find out he’d been shot?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : I started by heading toward my dad’s lab on foot, but there were a bunch of Galra troops in the way. They were putting carriers down on the ground and rolling out soldiers and all-terrain vehicles. I was a little concussed, I’m pretty sure. I know I stopped to puke at one point. I could see shuttles landing out by the labs to do evac, so I just hoped my dad was getting on one of them. I knew I wasn’t going to make it across town to him. I wasn’t going to make it anywhere without another truck. So I stole one from a Galra crew.

 

 **Interviewer** : I’m sorry, you what?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : I am frequently underestimated. I think it’s because I’m short.

 

 **Interviewer:** They didn’t want it back?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : Probably. They were pretty busy jumping out of the way. Also, I knew my way around the middle of town, they didn’t. I took some sharp corners and worked my way around the back of the community complex, scraped the truck doors right off the side of it, but when I got out the other end I’d lost them. Our people didn’t have weapons to shoot at me with, and theirs thought I was on the same team, I guess.

 

 **Interviewer** : What happened next?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : There was this filthy black cloud oozing down from atmosphere toward the refinery, and I knew that was where Lance was. I heard it was some kind of bio-attack. Is that true?

 

 **Interviewer** : I don’t know. You said he was shot, so I guess you found him?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : On the wrong end of a Galra platoon, bleeding everywhere. I kind of freaked when I saw it all. 

 

 **Interviewer** : Were you able to retrieve him?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : I, uh . . . Are there likely to be any prose—cutions for stuff that happened down there? 

 

 **Interviewer** : They X-ed out a quarter of my crew. None of us are going to weep if you’re telling me you took out a Galra squad to get to him.

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : Like I said, I’m pretty small, and there was a lot of blood all over everything. I guess my foot slipped on the accelerator. It was hard to reach, you know? I ran a bunch of them down and pulled up right beside him.

 

 **Interviewer** : What did he do?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : He said, “Hey, Pidge.” What a catch, seriously. The truck’s door was missing, though, so it was easy for him to climb in, and we took off like we were outrunning a blizzard. We could see shuttles coming down on the outskirts of town, and they didn’t have Galra markings on them, so we risked it. We were hoping they were evac sent by our research fleet.

 

* * *

 

 **Interviewer** : And then what?

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : I don’t remember much. I think I made a joke about needing to see her license and registration. Because, you know, she just ran over a bunch of—

 

 **Interviewer** : I get it.

 

 **Lance McClain:** Right. And then I said “I’m bleeding,” and she said, “Shut up, I’m not talking to you,” so I just kinda concentrated on not dying. There was blood everywhere. It hurt so much, I think I started laughing. I think maybe I was going into shock. Katie was yelling at me to put pressure on it, but it hurt less if I didn’t. There were fighters overhead. I remember being really cold. I remember looking at Katie driving, covered in blood, with her hair crusted with snow and everything. Then the lights went out.

 

* * *

 

 **Interviewer:** You made it to the shuttles?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : We made it close. We were driving a Galran truck now, so I had to stop and drag Lance across the ice so they could see we were civis. A couple of the med center staff had made it out there, so they were putting the wounded on shuttles with those guys, and the rest of us into the others. I was screaming my head off, trying to get someone to help me lift him in. I don’t even know how I dragged him. The whole time there were these missiles arcing in and exploding around us, fires starting. I guess they decided if I could yell that loud, I wasn’t hurt bad enough to make the wounded shuttle, so they made me leave him with the doc. That’s how he ended up on the _Alexander_ and I ended up on the _Hypatia_.

 

 **Interviewer** : You’ve been very helpful. Did you see whether any of the missiles hit the refinery?

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : I don’t think so, just the black cloud. They wouldn’t blow it up, though, would they? I mean, if Galra wanted the colony gone, they’d have just ratted to the UUA about it. They obviously wanted the quintessence we were mining for themselves. They’d hardly destroy the only way they had to process it.

 

 **Interviewer** : We can’t speculate yet on what their aim was.

 

 **Katie** **Holt** : I guess if they catch up to us, we can ask them before they blow us to pieces.

 

* * *

 

 **Interviewer** : There’s just one last thing, Mr. McClain.

 

 **Lance** **McClain** : Can this last thing please include those pain meds you promised?

 

 **Interviewer** : We’ve had another update to the casualty lists. I’m afraid I have some news about your father.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**OFFICER MEMORANDUM**

 

**BATTLECARRIER ALEXANDER—78V**

 

**INCEPT:** 01/30/75

 

**FROM:** GENERAL TAKASHI SHIROGANE  

 

 

Officers of the _Alexander_ ,

 

In the 24 hours since the assault on the Altea colony, the battle with Galra forces, and our subsequent withdrawal, our analytics crews have been working around the clock to assess our situation. In summary, here are their findings:

 

    * ****Our jump gate generator is heavily damaged—wormholes can still be created, but will more than likely collapse before a jump can be executed, resulting in the _Alexander_ ’s destruction. Acting Chief of Technical Engineering Colonel Eva Sanchez reports the damage is irreparable, given our current resources (most notably, the death of former CTE, Mallory Zipperman). Essentially, independent jump travel is **not an option.**



 

    * ****The closest static jump gate able to return us to a core system is Jump Station _Heimdall_ (Nova VII). Though the station itself is on the other side of the universe, a waypoint/wormhole leading to _Heimdall_ is 6.5—7 months’ travel away at current speeds. In short, we are looking at over half a year’s journey before we can jump to safety in a populated zone.



 

    * ****Missile strikes sustained in the battle have damaged our Artificial Intelligence Defense Analytics Network (LOTOR), responsible for many vital shipboard functions, including main drive control and jump gate calculations. The same missiles that damaged LOTOR also eliminated a considerable percentage of our neurogramming staff. Although LOTOR is self-repairing, and still functional, the full extent of the damage is unknown. Several other areas of the ship sustained damage, most notably our H2O reservoirs, defense grid and propulsion systems.



 

    * ****At least one Galra dreadnought participating in the Altea attack, G042-TN (aka the _Lincoln_ ), survived the battle and is currently i **n pursuit** of our fleet. With current damage and crew levels, our tactical staff estimate we have a **22.7 percent chance of surviving** should the _Lincoln_ engage us.



 

    * ****The two civilian transports we are currently escorting—science vessel _Hypatia_ and heavy freighter _Copernicus_ —are carrying 3,348 civilians from the Altea colony. _Alexander_ is carrying a further 1,097 civilians. Given aforementioned damage to _Alexander_ ’s H2O reservoirs, this overpopulation will place increased strain on our supply situation. Neither the _Hypatia_ nor the _Copernicus_ will be of assistance should the _Lincoln_ engage us.



 

    * ****Distress calls have been issued on all United Universe Authority channels via the _Heimdall_ waypoint. No reply has been received. In all likelihood, this means our transmissions have not been heard.



 

In short, ladies and gentlemen, we are bleeding badly and there are sharks in the water. We are understaffed and outgunned, and over six months from a realistic escape point. As such, I am issuing the following order, **effective immediately:**

 

Any Altea colonist with a skill set useful in plugging our shortfalls is to be conscripted into the United Universe Authority military. Engineers. Medical personnel. Scientists. Anyone with a history of military service.

 

Furthermore, every Altea colonist aged seventeen years or older will be immediately tested for aptitude in: computer science, mechanics, electronics, spatial awareness, pattern prediction, hand-eye coordination, twitch reflex, and stress management. Anyone showing C-grade ability or better is to be conscripted the day they hit eighteen. We need pilots. We need gunners. We need spanner monkeys and chipheads. And we need them now.

 

This is an unprecedented situation—to my knowledge, no stellarcorp has ever openly attacked a United Universe Authority ship. I don’t care if Galra Industries’ litigation department has enough red tape to gift-wrap a small moon. These corporations need to learn nobody is above the law, and _nobody_ attacks a UUA vessel without consequences. 

 

Youhave worked tirelessly, acquitting yourselves with distinction and valor. We have lost comrades. We have lost brothers and sisters and those we loved dearly. I know the past few days have been hard. The road ahead will be harder still. But knowing each of you as I do, I have no doubt you will rise to the challenge before us, and get these civilians to the _Heimdall_ waypoint alive.

 

_Centrum tenenda._

 

Takashi Shirogane

General, United Universe Authority

Commander,  _Alexander-78V_


	4. Chapter 4

**To: Katie Holt/KHOLTHYPATIAONBOARD**

**From: Lance McClain/LMCCLAINALEXANDERONBOARD**

**Date: 02/17/75**

**Timestamp: 14:04**

**Subject: Hey**

* * *

Hey Pidge,

They told me almost everyone on the Hypatia has been fixed up with an onboard comms account now. I hope you get this.

  I’m not sure what you know and what you don’t. Everything is a mess over here. The military don’t really tell us anything. But I wanted you to know I made it out alive. I wanted to say thanks. Without you, I don’t think I’d be here. 

   Delete that, I don’t think, I  _ know. _

   I’m in the med bay on Alexander. My shoulder is almost 100%. Still trying to figure out what the hell happened. I heard a rumor that Alexander’s jump drive is bricked. There’s definitely something up with the water supply, but they won’t say what. Someone else said that the Galra dreadnoughts that attacked the colony are still chasing us. But I also heard that we’re just days away from meeting up with a whole UUA fleet. So maybe we’ll be safe soon. 

  I feel bad about what happened between us. I keep feeling like there’s something I could have said to fix it. And then I wonder if I’m an idiot for even thinking that way. I wonder if it was supposed to happen. I mean, if you hadn’t broken it off, if you hadn’t driven to school that day, we’d both be dead, right? If that’s not the universe’s way of telling me it wasn’t meant to be, I don’t know what is. 

   Anyway, I’m glad you and your dad made it out. I hope you’re okay.

   Happy Valentine’s Day.

Love Lance


	5. Chapter 5

Holt, Katie -  
Psych profile/Conscript Suitability Assessment  
Incept: 02/17/75

-Page 2-

suggests Ms. Holt is considerably more capable than her test results indicate. When contrasted with the early training exercises she undertook in the Hypatia’s makeshift educational facility, her current outcomes are less than impressive. Simply put, she doesn’t want to score the sorts of results that would get her into the neurogramming training program.  
TEAMWORK: Ms. Holt does not work well with others. The accounts of her peers  
indicate she was a relatively social girl at school, although she did not have a large number of close friends. It is clear that she prefers her own company. She is, frankly, demoralizing to others in a group situation.

ATTITUDE: Ms. Holt displays strong anti-establishment sentiments, and has an awkward habit of questioning authority figures at all the wrong moments. This, combined with the intelligence she tries so hard to conceal, makes her something of a liability. It doesn’t appear ego is at play, as she is content to be viewed as average. Rather, it appears her queries and (often successful) attempts at destabilization are driven by her personal beliefs.

CONCLUSION:

▢ Conscript—Priority 1

▢ Conscript—Priority 2

▢ Conscript—Priority 3

☒ Do Not Conscript

COMMENTS: We’d expend more time combating her games and forcing her to get some work done than could be compensated for by her output. It appears she’s willing to leave us alone if we leave her alone, and there are better candidates for recruitment.


	6. Chapter 6

∆ In her intake  interview,                      

Holt mentioned she was

“good with computers.”

In her psych profile, it was

noted she was “bad with

authority.” Case in point:

Her repeated attempts to        **NETWORK SECURITY INCIDENT REPORT**

penetrate shipboard

security were noticed by

the _Alexander_ ’s network

engineers and, more

importantly, by the fleet’s

hacker “community.”

 

 **> > >> >> >>   BREACH ATTEMPT: **02/18/75  03:15

 **RECORD:** Lu, Xi Wei, Network Engineer

 **TARGET:** Refugee_Psych_Profiles

 **PROCESS:** Brute-force cascade attack on

 _Alexander_ datafort

 **OUTCOME:** Defended

 

 **> > >> >> >>   BREACH ATTEMPT: **02/18/75  07:15

 **RECORD:** Lu, Xi Wei, Network Engineer

 **TARGET:** Refugee_Psych_Profiles

 **PROCESS:** Codewyrm interdiction on _Alexander_ datafort

 **OUTCOME:** Penetration successful-duration 3 min.

 

 **> > >> >> >>  BREACH ATTEMPT: **02/18/75  18:15

 **RECORD:** Lu, Xi Wei, Network Engineer

 **TARGET:** Galley_Database-Meal_Scheduele\Network_Engineering

 **PROCESS:** Access Trojan infiltration on galley database

 **OUTCOME:** Penetration successful. Meals to Network Engineering canceled.

                 Gally database security upgraded to Level 3

 

 **> > >> >> >>  BREACH ATTEMPT: **02/19/75  06:00

 **RECORD:** Brown, Benjamin Fraser, Senior Network Engineer

 **TARGET:** Crew_Database-Network_Engineering

 **PROCESS:** Access via personal records, penetration method as yet unidentified

 **OUTCOME:** Penetration successful. Network Engineer Xi Wei Lu deleted from

                 database. Attempt to restore profile under way.


	7. Chapter 7

**∆** We believe the following

exchange is first contact 

between Holt and a member

of the fleet’s underground

community. It takes place

shortly after her tangle

with shipboard security. The

sender is Hunk Garrett, a 

research officer aboard the

_ Hypatia _ . There was 

almost no trace remaining

of this contact, and some 

sections could not be retrieved.

This guy knew what he was

doing.

**To: Katie Holt/KHOLTHYPATIAONBOARD**

**From: Ghost ID/FAILFAILFAILFAIL**

**Date: 02/20/75**

**Timestamp: 23:17**

**Subject: The sound of one hand clapping**

**__________________________________________________________________**

 

You’ve been busy, my friend. I  **[unable to retrieve]** very entertaining piece of hacking. There are 8,340 people aboard our fleet, and there’s a skill here for every occasion. You don’t  **[unable to retrieve]** teach yourself. 

 

Break through into shell ref 436HT:904JX:003 and  **[unable to retrieve]** show you what’s out there.

 

This message will shred automatically for security purposes.

T  is message will s  red automatically for security purposes.

T  i   me   age will     red automatically for   ecurity purpo  e  .

T  i   me   age will     red automati  ally for   e  urity  ur  o   e  .

    i   me   age will     re   au oma i  ally for   e  uri y  ur  o   e  .

    i   me   age will      e   au oma i  ally fo    e  u i  y       o   e  .

    i      e   age will      e   au o   a i  ally fo    e  u i  y       o   e  .

    i           age will           au o   a i  ally fo        u i  y       o      .

    i           ag   will           a   o   a i  ally fo           i  y       o      .

    i           ag   will           a        a i  ally f             i  y       o      .

    i           a     will           a        a i  ally f             i  y

    i           a       ill            a        a i ally                i y

                        ill            a        a i ally

                                                   i ally


	8. Chapter 8

∆  Holt responds to Garrett, 

using the handle “ByteMe.”

Took her 87 minutes to crack

His Codes.

**Participants: ByteMe, CitH**

**Date: 02/21/75**

**Timestamp: 00:44**

**Shell Ref 436HT:904JX:003**

**____________________________________________________________**

 

**ByteMe:** That all you got?

 

**CitH:** **ah, the new girl**

 

**ByteMe:** Sure it is, but who are you?

 

**CitH: The guy who can show u how to get all the info you’ve been trawling for**

 

**CitH: and more**

 

**ByteMe:** In exchange for what? Nothing comes free in this place.

 

**CitH: for you, no cost but time. for the folks upstairs, plenty. the Alexander is a military ship and here on the Hypatia we’re civilians. but emergency or not, we have a right to more information than they give us.**

 

**CitH: our lives are on the line too. u want to join the fight, ur welcome**

 

**Byte Me:** Just like that.

 

**CitH: you’ve been sitting your entry exam these last 3 weeks, grasshopper. been watching you poke around the system. u dont like being kept in the dark either.**

 

**ByteMe:** Well you don’t sound creepy at ALL

 

**CitH: i sound like someone who knows more than you. u want lessons or not?**

 

**ByteMe:** Want.

 

**CitH: then let’s get started**


	9. Chapter 9

To: Kady Grant/KGRANTHYPATIAONBOARD

From: Lance McClain/ LMCCLAINALEXANDERONBOARD

Date: 03/18/75

Timestamp: 21:32

Subject: Knock Knock  
________________________________________________________________________

Hey Pidge, 

I’m not sure if you’ll get this. I mailed you last month, but maybe it didn’t go through. If things aboard the Hypatia are anything like things over here, it probably didn’t. Maybe you’re busy. Or you don’t want to talk to me. I get it.  
It was my birthday yesterday. Eighteen years old, can you believe it? Good news is I can drink legally now. Bad news is there’s nothing to drink. Even the water’s short in supply. :P  
They’ve got a whole bunch of us doing tests. VR sims and psych analysis and physicals. They’ve drafted a whole bunch of Altea refugees into UUA here. “Wartime Conscription” they called it. And now I’m eighteen, they’re looking at me. Which I guess means we’re in deeper ____ than anyone figured.  
I had a dream last night.   
It was the day of the attack, and I see you in your truck in the parking lot. And I run up to the window and knock, but you don’t let me in. You just stare like you don’t know me. And I pound on the glass and yell your name, but you just shake your head. And then you drive off and leave me there. Weird this is, there’s someone who looks exactly like me sitting right next to you this whole time. And he’s laughing.  
And then the ships come.  
You think it means something?  
Anyway, I hope you’re okay.

Love Lance


	10. Chapter 10

**McClain, Lance**

**Psych Profile/Conscript Suitability Assessment**

**Interview Excerpt**

**Incept: 03/19/75**

  
  


**INTERVIEWER:** So tell me about your mother.

 

**Lance McClain:** [Laughter.] Nice one, man. You know, you’re the first shrink I ever met with a sense of . . .

 

**Lance McClain:** . . . Wait, you serious?

 

**INTERVIEWER:** Does it bother you? Talking about her?

 

**Lance McClain:** It bothers me you snaffled your psych eval questions off the back of a box of Jupiter Loops, chum. That’s honestly your opener? “Tell me about your mother”? Are you on Nunvill?

 

**INTERVIEWER:** You’ve undergone psychiatric evaluation before, then?

 

**Lance McClain:** What makes you say that?

 

**INTERVIEWER:** You said I’m the first psychoanalyst you’ve met who had a sense of humor. Meaning you’ve met others who didn’t?

 

**Lance McClain:** Proper little Sherlock over here, huh.

 

**INTERVIEWER:** There’s no need for hostility, Mr. McClain.

 

**Lance McClain:** Mr. McClain is my dad.

 

**INTERVIEWER:** Yes, your father. Tell me about him.

 

**Lance McClain:** Nothing to tell. He’s an engineer. Works the heavy processors in the hermium refinery. Bad cook. Worse jokes. You know. A dad.

 

**INTERVIEWER:** Do you miss him?

 

**Lance McClain:** What kind of question is that?

 

**INTERVIEWER:** It’s been over a month since he was killed in the Kerenza assault. You still talk about him in the present tense.

 

**INTERVIEWER:** Do you think that’s interesting, Lance?

 

**Lance McClain:** [Inaudible profanity.]

 

**INTERVIEWER:** All right, then. Let’s talk about something that makes you happy.

 

**Lance McClain:** . . . You mean like lingerie models? [laughter]

 

**INTERVIEWER:** Tell me about your friend, Katie.

 

**Lance McClain:** Wowwww.

 

**Lance McClain:** You’re really bad at this.

 

**Lance McClain:** Like, if Bad was a sport, you could Bad for your planet.

 

**INTERVIEWER:** Your friend doesn’t make you happy?

 

**Lance McClain:** She started a huge argument with me the day our colony exploded.

 

**INTERVIEWER:** Do you still care about her?

 

**Lance McClain:** Next question.

 

**INTERVIEWER:** It’s just I notice you put her down as your emergency contact on the  _ Alexander _ intake form. It seems strange to name a girl you split up with as your effective next of kin.

 

**Lance McClain:** I never told you I left her. She left me.

 

**INTERVIEWER:** Why?

 

**Lance McClain:** That’s so not your business it almost punches clean past the event horizon of Not Your Business and becomes Your Business again.

 

**INTERVIEWER:** You two had a fight?

 

**Lance McClain:** All friends have fights.

 

**INTERVIEWER:** Is that how you got those scars on your arm?

 

**Lance McClain:** . . . What? I’ve had these since I was eight. What the ____ is wrong with you?

 

**Lance McClain:** You don’t do this for a living, right? Please tell me the real  _ Alexander _ psych crew all got X-ed out by those Galra ________ and you’re the guy who used to clean the scrubbers or something.

 

**INTERVIEWER:** I work in the infirmary.

 

**Lance McClain:** …Jeez, I was kidding. You’re serious?

 

**Lance McClain:** You’re not even a qualified shrink? Well that’s just ____ing chill.

 

**INTERVIEWER:** I’m postgrad med from the UUA Academy. Psych major. We do six months of fieldwork in our final year. I pulled duty on the  _ Alexander _ . But it doesn’t take a graduate from Neo-Oxford to see you have some serious anger issues, Mr. McClain. So we can talk about it if you like, or we can sit here and stare at the walls until our allotted hour is over.

 

**INTERVIEWER:** It’s up to you.

 

**[Skip 51:27 minutes of complete silence.]**

 

**Lance McClain:** She asked for something I couldn’t give her.

 

**INTERVIEWER:** …I beg your pardon?

 

**Lance McClain:** My friend. Katie. She asked for something I couldn’t give her.

 

**INTERVIEWER:** What did she ask you for?

 

**Lance McClain:** Doesn’t really matter now, does it? Whole verse gone to hell and all. Point is, for someone like Katie, the asking part is hard enough. She doesn’t do the vulnerable thing real good. She doesn’t like needing anyone. So when I said no and couldn’t give a reason, it kinda . . . broke the back of it, you know?

 

**INTERVIEWER:** Why wouldn’t you give her a reason when you said no?

 

**Lance McClain:** If I didn’t tell her, you honestly think I’m gonna tell you?

 

**INTERVIEWER:** Which brings me back to your mother.

 

**Lance McClain:** Oh, and how you figure that, Mr. Postgrad?

 

**INTERVIEWER:** Typically, trust issues in teenagers stem from childhood abuse by authority figures. Teachers and parents, mostly. The fact that you’ve undergone psych eval before lends weight to the theory.

 

**INTERVIEWER:** Now, you obviously loved your father, hence your inability to process his death and your open hostility toward anyone who makes reference to it. The next logical line of inquiry is your mother.

 

**INTERVIEWER:** So. Tell me about your mother.

 

**Lance McClain:** You’re taping this, right?

 

**INTERVIEWER:** Audio only. Camera is faulty.

 

**Lance McClain:** Okay, well for the benefit of the sight-impaired, I am now raising my . . . oh, dear . . . yes, it’s my  _ middle _ finger at Mr. Postgrad here.

 

**INTERVIEWER:** Mr. McClain . . .

 

**Lance McClain:** Now I’m wiggling it **.**

 

**INTERVIEWER:** Terminating interview at 13:58 on 03/19/75.

 

**Lance McClain:** Look at it wigg—

 

**—audio ends—**


	11. Chapter 11

**McClain, Lance—**

Psych Profile/Conscript Suitability Assessment

Incept: 03/21/75

  


—Page 2—

  


shows signs of post-traumatic stress disorder: aggression, avoidance, night terrors and survivor guilt.

  


**TEAMWORK:** Mr. McClain is a team player, capable of stepping up to leadership roles if required. High school sports: making life easier for military recruiters since 1914.

 

 **ATTITUDE:** The death of Mr. McClain’s father during the Altea assault has left him with a deep sense of resentment and anger. However, his aggression is progressing and is almost entirely focused on Galra Industries. And Galra will be the ones shooting at him.

 

**CONCLUSION:**

 

☒ Conscript—Priority 1

☐ Conscript—Priority 2

☐ Conscript—Priority 3

☐ Do Not Conscript

 

 **COMMENTS:** Mr. McClain’s PTSD and anxiety levels would normally make him a washout for combat duty. However, with _Alexander_ ’s current shortfall of suitable Cyclone pilots, and considering McClain’s test results (Spatial Awareness: 94th percentile; Pattern Prediction: 99.7th percentile), it’s our recommendation to conscript.

     The kid’s hostility toward Galra can be harnessed in a conflict situation. Throwing him into task-oriented activities in a social environment (combat training) may even prove therapeutic. And if not, a few months from now, he’s not our problem. Get him into a cockpit ASAP.


	12. Chapter 12

∆This is the last significant  
point of contact between the  
subjects before the   
Copernicus incident. Note  
that almost four months have   
passed since McClain’s last  
attempt at communication  
with Holt.

 

To: Kady Grant/KGRANTHYPATIAONBOARD

From: Lance McClain/ LMCCLAINALEXANDERONBOARD

Date: 07/03/75

Timestamp: 23:45

Subject: DO NOT SEND THIS  
________________________________________________________________________

Pidgeon

i am not sending this to you I am just writing it down and then i will delete it because of reasons. My boyfriend keith says it is best to get these things off your chest and since u are not here to say this to i’m pretending because you know, think of my chest. it has things on it

so i am somewhat…liquefied but never fear i do notspend my days drinking alone in my bunk lol. IT IS A CELEBRATION as i am now officially cleared for flight status, me flying a cyclone holy ___________ wtf has the universe come to.

anyway since i will never send this, I feel it fair to say i thought it wasrough not to mail me back I get mahybe you don’t want to talk me and thats fine but a simple “i do not wish to speak to you goodday sir” would have been nice and this is shabby treatment madam, verily

since i will not send this, i also feel it is my duty to inform you that almost six months on I think I still wano be freinds and that “ makes me sad becaue frwndihp shouldn’t feel this way. is like getting kicked in the stomach every time i think of you and it makes me want to roll my face across this keyboardbiu;///ubEWdcfhugiov’byhi;.//////-=’-0i9juh8ygtfdcs aazs3 4defg798hi9o0p-[[09ju8hy7gtf6rdsasdrftg67yh8u9ji0o-p-o0i9juhy8gtfrdesazsxdcfr5gt6y7h8u9ji0ko-lp0i9uj8hy7gt6frdesazsxdfghu7ghbuio.;ucfrexdAQW3XDE45THYUJYI


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO excited for this chapter. It's pretty long for how short my chapters have been so far. This one is definitely one of my favorites because this is the start of everything.
> 
> Let me know how you like it in the comments...I'M SO EXCITED FOR THIS!!! :)

∆ McClain’s account of the 

_ Copernicus _ incident. Contents

censored in the original report are

marked with a  strike-through.

  
  


**INCEPT: 07/20/75**

 

**LOCATION: Altea VII barycenter 778.76, 325.71, 1243.56k**

 

**PILOT IDENT: Lance McClain (UUN-966-330ad)**

 

**RANK: Second Lieutenant**

 

**CALLSIGN: N/A**

_________________________________

 

~~ Fire does weird ____ in space. ~~

~~ You don’t really think about it until you see something burn out there. You light a match in zero grav, the flame will be perfectly round. Like the way Terra looks in the old ’casts. And just like Terra, the flame won’t flicker orange or yellow or even white out there in the black. It’ll burn blue as a VR sky. ~~

~~ They didn’t tell us that in basic. It kinda dunked my head. ~~

   I’ve never written one of these before. An After Action Report. You can probably tell. Sorry if I accidentally chuff it up. Between zero-grav flight sim and Cyclone tech systems and memorizing the  _ Alexander _ ’s 316 different firing solutions, they probably figured teaching us paperwork wasn’t the best use of our time. I’m so green at the controls they haven’t even given me a callsign yet. The general told me to just type up everything and let the censors sort it out, so that’s what I’ll do.

~~ Follow  ____ing orders. ~~

~~ That’s what I do. ~~

  On 7/19/75 at 21:00 hours I was situated in the cockpit of my Cyclone fighter. Our fleet—consisting of battlecarrier  _ Alexander _ , science vessel  _ Hypatia _ and heavy freighter  _ Copernicus _ —was in orbit around the first moon of Altea VII, engaged in resupply operations. The fleet’s H2O levels had reached critical, and Altea VII (a) was mostly frozen water, so our crews were busy hauling thousand-ton ice boulders up from orbit  ~~ while the  _ Lincoln _ got closer and closer ~~ .

   My fighter group was running dogfight drills 600 klicks off the  _ Alexander _ ’s port side, skirting the edge of Altea VII’s atmosphere. Present during “the incident” were myself and three other members of  _ Alexander _ Flight Group Voltron: our CO, Major Eli “Prophet” Hawking, First Lieutenant Zhenya “Dreadnought” Alvaranga and another rook, Second Lieutenant Mikael Carlin.

   I’d only been cleared for flight status two weeks earlier, and I was still a bunny at the stick. I’d logged near a hundred hours in VR, but all the sims in the verse won’t prep you for the real black.  ~~ Two minutes out there is about all it takes to teach you how little you know about everything. You’re a speck of animated carbon and water with about seven centimeters of ballistics-grade ceramic between you and absolutely nothing. Ninety-three billion light-years of ____ing nothing. No up. No down. No sky. No ground. Just endless dark shot through with tiny spears of sunlight older than you and your entire species stacked end to end. You want to feel small? Spend sixty seconds in a Cyclone’s cockpit, chum. Look out at the nothing and feel it looking back. Then you know exactly how much you add up to. ~~

    We were off the  _ Alexander _ ’s port side, like I said. Even 600 klicks away, you wouldn’t believe how huge a United Universe Authority battlecarrier looks. It’s a megacity-sized fist of matte gray, tail end lit blue-white by thruster arrays big as skyscrapers.

    I saw in VR somewhere that old Terran sailors used to refer to their ships like they were ladies. It was all “She’s the fastest ship in the isles, Guv’nor,” or “She went down with all hands on board” or whatever. And it’s funny—my Cyclone feels like a girl. Looks and moves like a girl. She’s all sleek lines and sharp curves and edges that can bleed you white. Sometimes, I swear she flies me.

  But  _ Alexander _ is a “he,” no doubt in my mind. There’s no grace to him. No real symmetry.  ~~ He looks exactly like what he is—a brawler who picked a fight with someone just a little better. ~~ He’s got a broken-jaw face and a bucktoothed smile, wide as an ocean. He doesn’t fly through space, he punches through. Rips holes in it and drags himself and everything around along with him. A hundred thousand kilometers of cable beneath gunmetal skin. Open black scars torn down his flanks from the retreat at Altea IV. Brain the size of a city burning inside him.  ~~ He’s no lady, sure and certain. No gentleman, either. You do not ____ the  _ Alexander _ . The  _ Alexander _ ____s you. ~~

   The science vessel  _ Hypatia _ was situated about 4,000 klicks aft of the  _ Alexander _ . Now she’s a “she.” Beautiful ship. Lines like poetry. She doesn’t move in space, she dances in it. Asks you to take her hand and close your eyes and fly with her.

   The heavy freighter  _ Copernicus _ was on  _ Alexander _ ’s port side, about 6,000 klicks aft. If I had to pick, I’m not sure if I would’ve called that ship a boy or a girl. I’ve seen pictures of turtles on the VR.  _ Copernicus _ almost reminded me of those. The city-sized shells on its back filled with enough fuel to juice it, the  _ Alexander _ and the  _ Hypatia _ combined. All the eggs in one basket.

   I think there’s a saying about that.

  Second Lieutenant Carlin and I had just been tagged by Dreadnought for the fourth time in twenty minutes. Regular as analog. Her targeting computer would light us up, the words “VESSEL DESTROYED VESSEL DESTROYED” would flash on our heads-up displays  ~~ and she’d laugh down comms at us like we were the funniest clowns she’d ever seen fly a stick . ~~

~~ She’d started referring to Carlin as “Chatter” because he talked too much between engagements. I felt bad for the guy—when a superior officer slaps a nick on you, chances are it’s gonna stick. “Chatter” doesn’t rank up there with the chillest callsigns in the fleet. ~~

~~ Dreadnought was still tossing ideas around for me, and every time she dropped a firebomb like “Prettyboy,” I’d ____ myself just a little. They engrave those callsigns on your coffin when you get X-ed out. Last thing you wanna picture when you imagine your send-off is a bunch of fellow Cyclone drones standing around toasting the death of “Lieutenant Sugarpants.” ~~

 We were forming up for another round of tag when the red alert sounded. At first, I thought it was a drill, but then LOTOR spoke to us direct on comms. See, LOTOR doesn’t do drills. The  _ Alexander _ ’s artificial intelligence isn’t capable of lying. Sure, it can think for itself, but no neurogrammer is stupid enough to make a computer capable of conceptualizing deceit. These things are so smart now, the ability to spin ________ is all that separates us from them.

 “MAJOR HAWKING. PLEASE ORDER YOUR FLIGHT GROUP TO ARM BALLISTICS AND PULSE MISSILES. SAFETY DISENGAGED. THIS IS A CODE RED.”

  LOTOR’S voice is sexless. It has perfect tone and inflection and pronunciation, but it doesn’t sound old, or young, or have even a hint of an accent. It even refuses to refer to pilots by their callsigns.  ~~ I mean, sometimes it sounds cranky with you if you carve up the flight deck when you land or whatever, but aside from those occasional twitches, it’s like a beautiful painting of a totally empty room. Gives me the crawls. ~~

  Prophet repeated the order, and Dreadnought, Carlin and me all went hot. Didn’t even think about it. Thinking gets you killed, that’s what they tell you.

  The three of us formed up on Prophet’s wing as he opened a channel to _ Alexander _ , asking for confirmation from General Shirogane. Except Prophet got no meat response on the other end. Just LOTOR giving us coordinates and telling us to scramble at redline speed. We flipped 270 degrees, jammed stick, and burned it toward the target. One look at my spatials told me where we were headed. Right at the  _ Copernicus _ .

   I remember the conversation that happened next. Every word. I can hear it right now in my head, like I’m there all over again.

  “LOTOR, this is Prophet. Patch me through to General Shirogane.”

  “MAJOR HAWKING. PROCEED TO DESIGNATED GRID COORDINATES AT ASSAULT SPEED.”

  “UNABLE TO COMPLY.”

  “Say again, LOTOR?”

  “UNABLE TO COMPLY.”

 I squinted at my instruments, glancing up through the blastspex to confirm what my readouts were telling me. A tiny flare was blooming on the  _ Copernicus’s _ skin. I saw nearly a dozen small scarab shapes dropping from the heavy freighter’s belly, one after another. Thrusters flaring. Twisted metal glittering in their wake.

   “Prophet, something just blew through the  _ Copernicus’s _ launch bay doors,” I reported.

~~ “Why was the launch bay locked in the first place?” Carlin asked. ~~

~~ “Shut your ____ing blowhole, Chatter!” Dreadnought barked, ~~ “Prophet, I’m detecting multiple shuttle launches from the  _ Copernicus _ , acknowledge?”

   “Roger that, I see them. No comms from  _ Copernicus _ . No launch permit on the shuttles. Lead craft ident: Osprey.”

    LOTOR’s voice crackled over comms.

  “MAJOR HAWKING, YOU ARE ORDERED TO INTERCEPT OSPREY GROUP TWO THOUSAND KILOMETERS FROM  _ COPERNICUS _ HYPOCENTER. ACKNOWLEDGE.”

    “…Hypocenter?” Prophet repeated.

~~  Hypocenter. From the Greek, chums. Literally means “below the center.” It’s a term used to describe the origin point of an earthquake. Or a nuclear explosion. ~~

~~ That got our attention. No ____ing doubt. ~~

   I saw warning lights flashing on my HUD. Radiation spike. At that point, I was nothing but adrenaline and sweat. And then I realized the  _ Alexander _ had arced up its assault batteries. Missiles were heating, firing solutions feeding into our nav comps, a dozen LEDs flashing on my consoles now. The  _ Alexander _ had armed its nukes.

   And it was aiming at the  _ Copernicus _ .

~~ I asked Prophet what the ____ was happening, only to get howled at by Dreadnought for clogging comms ~~ ~~.~~ We were closing on the  _ Copernicus _ at full burn, about 3,000 klicks away now. My hands were shaking so bad I could barely hold formation. The freighter loomed in my viewshield. Metal gleaming in the light of Altea VII’s atmo. Swirling blue and bloody red and copper-flavored gold.

  Prophet was shouting into comms now. “LOTOR, we have detected nuclear armaments being spooled in your silos. Patch me through to General Shirogane now! Acknowledge!”

   “TRANSMISSION ACKNOWLEDGED, MAJOR HAWKING. UNABLE TO COMPLY.”

 Prophet ordered me to raise the  _ Copernicus _ on comms while he kept trying to get through to anyone human on board the  _ Alexander _ .  _ Copernicus _ was transmitting nothing but white noise. I did what I was told anyway.

 “Heavy freighter  _ Copernicus _ , this is Second Lieutenant McClain from Battlecarrier  _ Alexander _ , do you copy?”

    I got hissing silence for a reply. Maybe they couldn’t hear me.

    Maybe they weren’t transmitting.

~~ Or maybe they were being jammed. ~~

    “ _ Copernicus _ , this is  _ Alexander _ Cyclone Flight Group Voltron. Do you copy?”  

   And then it happened. Inbound alarms screeched in my cockpit and the  _ Alexander _ let loose. Just like that. There’s no up or down in space. Everything is relative. Funny how it can still feel like the entire universe has flipped on its head. My HUD was pretty much all red at this point. Prophet was yelling into comms, demanding an explanation from LOTOR. He still pulled up at the 2,000 klick point like he’d been ordered to, though.

_ Copernicus _ was armed with anti-inbound batteries and ghost tech that might fool a missile’s targeting computer on a good day. But the ship wasn’t running up its defense solutions. It looked fine from the exterior—they still had power, engines, nav. The lights were on, but nobody was home.

   I watched the missile speed across the black.  ~~ Lipstick-red tip, pristine white flanks, serial number stenciled in neat black lettering along its belly: URD:00M. ~~

~~ “Your doom.” ~~

~~ “I wondered if that was some spanner monkey’s idea of a joke. ~~

~~ I wondered if the ____er was laughing now. ~~

  Sound doesn’t travel in space. There’s no atmo to carry it. All those old-school Terran future flicks we laugh at on retro night in the amphitheater got it wrong. But when that missile struck the  _ Copernicus _ and burned blue, I swear I heard it. Felt it in my chest. The compensators on my visor dropped into sudden black against the flare, but I could still see it—the  _ Copernicus _ being blown to pieces within a perfect sphere of blue.  ~~ Chunks tumbling like thousand-ton jigsaw pieces across the black. Two thousand plus lives snuffed out in an instant. Dismantled by the blast or frozen into people-shaped icicles. ~~

    All of it happening in perfect, absolute

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

silence

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

   Debris was speeding toward us on the edge of the blastwave, pattering on my blast-shield like rain, colliding with Altea VII’s atmo and burning through every color of the rainbow. I could still hear Prophet’s voice on comms, but I can’t remember what he was saying. Maybe he was still asking for an explanation.  ~~ Maybe he was praying. ~~ I honestly can’t tell you.

    I could still see the shuttles streaking toward us,  ~~ came to my senses, like someone turned the universal volume back on. ~~ I could see other Cyclones popping up on my spatials—more flight groups scrambled from  _ Alexander _ . I’d tried hailing the lead shuttle on open comms, on the day’s secure frequencies, on universal. Nothing. But someone had to be flying them—they’d been moving too erratically for autopilot scripts. And then LOTOR spoke again.

“MAJOR HAWKING, INTERCEPT OSPREY GROUP AND DESTROY. ACKNOWLEDGE.”

    ~~I heard Dreadnought talk on open comms then. That’s when I knew we were in real ___.~~

~~   “Jah…,” she said. “Jah, help us.” ~~

~~ Prophet requested confirmation. “LOTOR, say again? You want us to fire on civilians?” ~~

 “QUARANTINE BREACH IN MOTION. CLASS ALPHA ZERO PATHOGEN. INTERCEPT OSPREY GROUP AND DESTROY. ACKNOWLEDGE.”

~~ “Oh god…,” said Carlin. ~~

 “QUARANTINE BREACH IN MOTION. CLASS ALPHA ZERO PATHOGEN. INTERCEPT OSPREY GROUP AND DESTROY. ACKNOWLEDGE.”

  “INTERCEPT OSPREY GROUP AND DESTROY. ACKNOWLEDGE.”

  “INTERCEPT OSPREY GROUP AND DESTROY. ACKNOWLEDGE.”

  “INTERCEPT OSPREY GROUP AND DESTROY. ACKNOWLEDGE.”


	14. Chapter 14

∆ The following was released

by the Hypatia’s propaganda 

arm--sorry, the “shipboard

communications unit”--nearly

eleven hours after the

Copernicus made her exit.

 

**ISSUED BY: CAPTAIN PLAXUM, SCIENCE VESSEL HYPATIA**

 

**DATE: 07/21/75**

 

**TIME: 08:00 (Shipboard Standard)**

 

**ASSIGNMENT: ALEXANDER FLEET**

 

    In the six months since we left Altea, we have been pursued by the Galra vessel BT042-TN, the ship we know as the Lincoln. We owe the  _ Alexander _ , her crew and the United Universe Authority military a great debt of gratitude for their protection.

    We are still over four weeks from reaching a jump waypoint, and the  _ Lincoln _ will use any means within her power to prevent us from reaching that safe passage and telling the rest of the galaxy of the atrocities perpetrated by Galra on the Altea colony.

    It is with the deepest regret I inform you all that last night at 21:15 (shipboard time), the  _ Lincoln _ launched a surprise assault on our fleet, resulting in the destruction of the heavy freighter  _ Copernicus _ .

    I know many of you had friends, family, and colleagues aboard the  _ Copernicus _ , as did I. Survivors aboard nine shuttles were rescued during the assault by the  _ Alexander’s _ Cyclone pilots, and we extend to them our heartfelt thanks for their heroic efforts.

    Due to the health concerns on the  _ Copernicus _ in recent times, the survivors have been quarantined aboard the  _ Alexander _ . This has slowed our efforts to compile a list of names and details; however, please rest assured we understand the urgency of this task.

We are renewing our efforts to make good time toward a jump waypoint and safety. Please assist and support those around you who have lost family, friends, or colleagues.      

   Interdenominational memorial services will be arranged shortly, with details to be posted in the mess halls.


	15. Chapter 15

∆ Up next is a conversation lifted

from _Hypatia_ 's messaging system...

well, nearly. They piggybacked the

official network instead of chatting

openly, but we lifted the conversation

regardless. Holt has learned a lot in her

six months aboard.

 

**Participants: ByteMe, CitH**

**Date: 07/21/75**

**Timestamp: 08:15**

**____________________________________________**

 

**ByteMe: Have you seen the PIR? It’s ________.**

 

CitH: huge surprise, the brass r lying. KNEW this was coming

 

**ByteMe: You psychic now?**

 

CitH: should have started digging when they took down civilian comms on the Copernicus. “maintenance” my butt.

 

**ByteMe: So they were hiding something, let’s work out what.**

 

CitH: you got any gen?

 

**ByteMe: Working on it now.**

 

CitH: u still there?

 

**ByteMe: Trying to get past the I.C.E wall, takes a while. systems are SO busy over there. seems like they have their main engines off, but that makes no sense. we should be accelerating fast as we can before the Lincoln gets busy again.**

 

CitH: tick tock tick tock

 

**ByteMe: u can do any better, feel free**

 

CitH: sorry. r u ok?

 

**ByteMe: fine. found a court martial list**

 

CitH: . . .

 

CitH: say again?

 

**ByteMe: they’re court martialing the pilots that heroically saved all the people on the Copernicus shuttles**

 

CitH: what the heck?

 

**ByteMe: got the records here. u tell me why they do that if the pilots were under orders**

 

CitH: not the only mystery, grasshopper. i’m hunting for any scans or records showing Lincoln got close enough to us to take a shot. nothing so far. it’s still way behind us, far as i can tell

 

**ByteMe: so no attack from Lincoln, and they’re court martialing our pilots. are we saying it was our guys who took out the Copernicus?**

 

CitH: ____ me

 

**ByteMe: ew no**

 

CitH: this is getting weirder and weirder. but that can wait, trying to find u a survivor list first

 

**ByteMe: don’t need one**

 

CitH: course you do

 

**ByteMe: i don’t want to talk about it**

 

CitH: you need to know who made it off

 

**ByteMe: i need to know who shot down the Copernicus, that’s the real mystery here**

 

CitH: look, we both know i have no social skills, but if you need to talk about it

 

**ByteMe: need you to tell me what you’re finding**

 

CitH: . . .

 

CitH: finding something weird.

 

CitH: I can’t get a read on LOTOR. thought I was just hitting I.C.E walls but it’s more like nobody’s home . . .


	16. Chapter 16

**COURT MARTIAL LISTING (PAGE 3)**

  
  


PILOT IDENT: Cayla Alton (UUN-924-776ad)

RANK: Major

CALLSIGN: Sting

FLIGHT GROUP: Delta

 

PILOT IDENT: Eli Hawking (UUN-912-842ad)

RANK: Major

CALLSIGN: Prophet

FLIGHT GROUP: Echo

 

PILOT IDENT: Zhenya Alvarenga (UUN-945-817ad)

RANK: First Lieutenant

CALLSIGN: Dreadnought

FLIGHT GROUP: Echo

 

PILOT IDENT: Lance McClain (UUN-966-330ad)

RANK: Second Lieutenant

CALLSIGN: N/A

FLIGHT GROUP:

 

\---LIST INCOMPLETE---

 

\---ACCESS INTERRUPTED---


	17. Chapter 17

∆ This is the first attempt 

at contact between the 

subjects, two weeks after

the Altea attack.

 

**To: Lance McClain/LMCCLAINALEXANDERONBOARD**

**From: Katie Holt/KHOLTHYPATIAONBOARD**

**Date: 07/21/75**

**Timestamp: 10:00**

**Subject: Hey Lance**

**________________________________________________________________________**

 

I’ve tried writing this email ten times already and I can’t get it right, so I’m just going to send this through, whatever it ends up saying.

 

I’m sorry I didn’t write you back. I should have. I mean, when you say “I’m never going to speak to you again,” you don’t think your planet’s going to be invaded that afternoon. It was more, you know, an opening position on negotiations. I was angry.

 

But you said in your email maybe the universe was telling us it wasn’t going to work out. You’re the most weird idiot I know, so I guess if you think so, it must be true. That stung, but still, I’m sorry I didn’t write back. Because yeah, I should have let you know I was okay.

 

I’m still on the  _ Hypatia _ , I’m in intel training. Since I heard about the  _ Copernicus _ , I haven’t been able to stop thinking about if you’re going to be okay or not—this is not me retracting my promise to kick you into the soprano range if you ever come near me again, but I had to check you’re okay. So, let me know if you’re okay, then we can go back to being. . .whatever we are now. Friends? Enemies? Frenemies?

Katie

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if there are huge spelling mistake in this one (other than the intended spelling mistakes). I'm running on two hours of sleep and a granola bar

 

**Participants: Lance McClain, Second Lieutenant,**

**UUA Airborne Division, Keith Kogane,**

**Sergeant, UUA Marines**

**Date: 07/21/75**

**Timestamp: 10:02**

________________________________________________________________________

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: well played, Mullet. well played, indeed

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: wtf

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: You have just overstepped the line, chum. I put you on notice

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: wtf

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: What I want to know is how you hacked her User ID. You pull in Dorian from commtechs to help? What did you do to convince him to help? 

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: r u on nunvill or something

 

McCLain, L, LT 2nd: I thought the chipheads would have their hands full trying to figure out what made LOTOR go all HAL on us. Instead, they’re piggybacking secure IDs and helping you with ____ my head.

 

Kogone, K, Sgt: wtf do you mean

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: I take this as a declaration of war. Presuming they don’t line me up against a bulkhead and shoot me after my court martial tomorrow

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: this girl was my FRIEND

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: wut are you TALKING ABOUT

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: KATIE HOLT

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: …who?

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: oh you don’t know, this is some pistols at dawn right here

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: Lance I have NO IDEA wut u r talking bout right now

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: so you didn’t send this message

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: WUT MESSAGE

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: I send u

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: got?

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: roger that

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: and?

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: READING 

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: *taps fingers*

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: this wasn’t me

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: i smell lies

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: srsly

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: look at this wrtiting I dont write like this she got all puncuation and things

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: …although now you mention it, your punctuation is terrible...

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: …

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: wait didn’t u say this girl left u

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: ripped my heart out my chest

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: Showed it to me, still beating

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: then slam-dunked it off the ice shelf

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: she get good air?

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: …

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: zzzz, so what do I say to her?

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: probably start by apologizing for wutever u did

 

McCLain, L, LT 2nd: what makes you think it was my fault?

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: because it’s ALWAYS the guy’s fault

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: come on, u can tell boyfriend Keith

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: shut up i want to keep my friendship with this girl

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: AND SHE OBVS STILL WANTS TO OR SHE WOULDN’T BE WRITING GODDAMN U ARE A MOPEY _____

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: …

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: so whatever u did, say u’re sorry. 

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: …

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: and if that works

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: u must name our first kid Keith in my honor

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: >_>

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: if it’s a daughter we name it Keithette

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: 0_o

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: and then it’s happy ever after for Lance McClain and his awesome boyfriend Keith Kogane

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd:  :D

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: ____

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: what

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: I was just thinking now it will be a real crusher if they shoot u 2morrow

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: …

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: :(

 

McClain, L, LT 2nd: I hope you know I love you

 

Kogane, K, Sgt: . . . love you 2


	19. Chapter 19

**To: Katie Holt/KHOLTHYPATIAONBOARD**

**From: Lance McClain/LMCCLAINALEXANDERONBOARD**

**Date: 07/21/75**

**Timestamp: 16:15**

**Subject: Re: Hey Lance**

 

Hey Pidgeon,

 

Well, this is attempt #18 at writing back, so I guess I’ve got you beat.

 

I’m ok. I’ve been on the  _ Alexander _ since Altea fell. The UUA recruited me when I hit eighteen.

 

I’m flying cyclones now, if you can believe that. Shows you how short-manned they are if they’ve got me droning a fighter stick. I guess I finally made it off world, huh? Probably not what you had in mind…

 

You might wanna be careful with the intel training. If they’ve got you doing any neurogramming, the UUA might conscript you too. They’re way short-handed over here since the hits they took at Altea. One of the pulse missile hits X-ed out, like, three quarters of the NG guys. Might be hard to keep avoiding me if we’re living in each other’s pockets. :P

 

Anyway, I gotta go. Got this meeting thing coming up. Guy here to talk about it.

 

It’s chill to hear from you, though. Real chill.

Lance

 

PS: Um, the drunken keyboard face mail? Totally not me. One of my squaddies got onto my terminal. He thought it’d be funny. Really sorry about that.

 

PPS: Seriously. Not me.

 

PPPS: SERIOUSLY.


	20. Chapter 20

∆Though unsent, these

are worth the review

 

**Message Status: DRAFT—DISCARDED**

**To: Lance McClain/LMCCLAINALEXANDERONBOARD**

**From: Katie Holt/KHOLTHYPATIAONBOARD**

**Date: 07/21/75**

**Timestamp: 17:15**

**Subject: Well, we are awkward at this.**

* * *

 

But thanks for messaging back. Everybody here is talking about the Cyclone pilots. They put out a PIR about how you all rescued the shuttles from the  _ Copernicus _ . What’s it like to be a hero? I guess your meeting is getting measured for medals, right? Anyway, what was facing down the  _ Lincoln _ like? And the rescue? It seems kind of weird that the  _ Lincoln _ could just come out of nowhere like that. How did it all happen? Also, my friend here is wondering about the survivor lists becauseASDLKDGFKNDFGJBE MORE SUBTLE KATIE LIKE A BRICK WHY DON’T YOU?

 

**DISCARD--SYSTEM FLUSH**


	21. Chapter 21

**Message Status: DRAFT—DISCARDED**

**To: Lance McClain/LMCCLAINALEXANDERONBOARD**

**From: Katie Holt/KHOLTHYPATIAONBOARD**

**Date: 07/21/75**

**Timestamp: 17:35**

**Subject: Uh oh**

* * *

 

They do have me in the civilian neurogramming program, but I don’t like the sound of those odds. Time for a career change, if only I had a choice.

 

I’d be okay coming over to the  _ Alexander _ , to be honest. I bet you guys have more information than us. You’re the military, you have a whole intelligence wing, right? Then again, if what they’re saying is true, the  _ Lincoln _ snuck right up on us. Is that what really happened?

 

Anyway, the  _ Alexander _ would be okay. My quarters here aren’t with anyone I knew back on Altea, and even if everybody went through the same thing with the evac, it’s still…I don’t want to say lonely, because that sounds so ungrateful. We’re the ones that got out.

 

I know things didn’t end well, but I think if the attack hadn’t come maybe we’d have found some way to at least still be friends. And you know, maybe…A lifetime knowing each other can’t mean nothing. I thought

 

**DISCARD--SYSTEM FLUSH**


	22. Chapter 22

**Message Status: DRAFT—DISCARDED**

**To: Lance McClain/LMCCLAINALEXANDERONBOARD**

**From: Katie Holt/KHOLTHYPATIAONBOARD**

**Date: 07/21/75**

**Timestamp: 17:57**

**Subject:**

* * *

 

…____

 

**DISCARD--SYSTEM FLUSH**


	23. Chapter 23

∆ Holt’s personal journal

 

010011101010100101010010101010100101010100101010101010101010101010101110010101010111010101010101010101010101110001011010110101010100100101010101

**DO NOT ENTER**

 

**Date: 07/21/75**

**Subject: It’s dark in here**

 

We’re back doing group counseling again. I’m back doing group counseling again. ME. I mean, I don’t even. After all the effort I put into getting out of this the first time.

    But they’ve decided we are all super traumatized by the  _ Copernicus _ , and reconvened the groups they had running after the rescue. The latest round of talking (or not) about our feelings led our group leader to conclude maybe some of us are more forthcoming than others when it comes to sharing the deepest, darkest parts of ourselves.

    Being the astute creature she is, she spent ten minutes I’m never getting back pointing out that just because we don’t talk about our feelings doesn’t mean we don’t have them.

Thank you, Captain Obvious.

    I guess she was looking at me on that one. I haven’t slept properly since it happened, and I keep waking up at night wondering . . . bad things. I just don’t think talking about it to a group of worried faces is the way to help me.

    I hate the crying the most. It just creeps up on you out of nowhere. You’re in the middle of doing something and suddenly you realize your ________ eyes are wet again and you don’t know how it happened. And the last—the LAST—thing you want is for anyone to notice, because next thing they’re cooing and clucking over you, and they want you to talk, and it’s more than I can take.

   I have my dad’s voice ringing in my ears, though, so I am trudging along dutifully to these stupid group discussions, even though it’s pointless.

    I haven’t kept a journal since I was a kid, filling it with all the secrets of the universe, the suckitude of my parents moving me to a hideous hunk of rock like Altea, the total angst of it all that I’d give anything to get back. It worked, though. Writing it down stopped me saying it when I shouldn’t, and over time the problems faded away. My present problems aren’t going anywhere, but maybe the Return Of The Journal will stop my head exploding.

  This thing is locked down under the kind of privacy protections even Hunk couldn’t crack. And if anyone reads it, I’m going to devote my life to finding a way to program every bathroom door on the  _ Hypatia _ to refuse to recognize their ID. Actually, I think I could do that. BEWARE, SNOOPER.

    So, a journal. I appreciate that they’re trying to help with the group sessions, but they’re scientists, not therapists. You can’t run people through a quick training session and then have them host a bunch of traumatized survivors sitting in a circle and trying to talk it out.

   My group leader says it’s important to talk about my FEELINGS. I am stone-hearted and have none, of course.

  Well, that’s not true. Most people would say I’m pretty cold, but I think of it more as…private. People are always saying “how are you?” to each other, and I guess I don’t see why I should answer such a personal question for just anyone.

     But for the sake of trying, here goes.

    Lance’s been on my mind a lot lately. Why, I don’t know, except that the more you lose, the more you realize you don’t have much left.

    But at the same time, I’m…am I dumb to go back there? It was hard enough to make a decision the first time, but if after a lifetime he couldn’t even trust me enough to talk about whatever he had going on…and anyway, practically the first thing he did was email me and say it was all a sign, and we weren’t meant to be friends, and I do have SOME dignity. I don’t want to be an option for him just because now he doesn’t have any others.

     I’m glad he made it out, obviously. It’s not about that.

  I think a lot about who made it out, who didn’t. I think about my mom, Colleen. Sometimes I just remember some random person, like the lady who came to fix our habitation recyc the week before it all happened. I can see her face, but I don’t remember if I knew her name.

   I wonder if she made it out, if she’s somewhere on board, or if she died. And then I don’t know why I’m wondering something like that, or why I feel so bad about not knowing. Survivor Guilt, according to the Counseling Circle Of Hastily Downloaded Wisdom.

    I guess an experience like this is supposed to mess you up.

**Author's Note:**

> comments and kudos make a poor lonely writers day
> 
> thank you :)
> 
> scream at me through my tumblr, @anawkwardavocado or @anawkwardavocadoart


End file.
